


In the Hospital

by pearlsongrey



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlsongrey/pseuds/pearlsongrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up in the hospital after a car crash, and his roommate turns out to be Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of this tumblr post: http://celestial-sexhair.tumblr.com/post/84057810103/hieroglyphical-this-makes-me-want-a-fic-in

Dean cracked his eyes open. Something above his head was way too bright, adding to the already-prominent headache that pounded against his temples. Not to mention, his leg hurt like a bitch. He rubbed his hands over his face. God damn it, what had happened? The last thing he remembered was being in the car with Sam, and then… nothing. It must’ve been a crash. Shit. Once the headache receded a little, Dean pushed himself up on his elbows and squinted around the room.   
There was a white chair and white walls and a white curtain right in front of him, and a window to his left with a white shade drawn over it. His sheets were white; his bed was cold metal with a white mattress.   
Good, great, a hospital. Dean groaned and flopped back down on the bed. Hadn’t he and Sam agreed not to take each other to hospitals unless it was something serious? He moved his left leg, the one that hurt, around experimentally, and then winced and gritted his teeth. Alright, so maybe a break, but it couldn’t have been too bad.   
He was just squeezing his eyes shut, half trying to remember what had happened and half trying to block out the headache that was threating to become a migraine behind his eyelids, when he heard a voice from the other side of the curtain.  
“Gabriel, I told you to stop.” It was a male voice, deep and a little bit hoarse, as though the man was trying to whisper. “No, you cannot send male prostitutes to the room. I’m not physically healthy enough to have sex. Not to mention, it’s unsanitary for them to be here.”   
Dean heard the door open and close, and a crash of what he could only guess was the hasty return of the phone to the receptacle. The curtain was tugged back and a very pretty nurse with blonde hair pulled back into a bun walked into Dean’s side of the room.  
“Anything I can get you, sweetheart?” she asked.   
“A cup of water would be great,” said Dean, giving her his best smile and only halfway through it remembering how shitty he must look.  
“Alright, I’ll be right back,” she said. “You want me to leave this here?” She gestured to a tray of food on Dean’s bedside table, and he nodded.   
“Yeah, sure.”   
The nurse left, closing the door behind her and leaving the room in an awkward silence. With the curtain pulled back, Dean looked at the man in the bed opposite his. He had messy, dark brown hair, and, even from this distance, Dean could tell his eyes were a gorgeous dark blue. Wait- what? Gorgeous? No. Just- just blue.   
“Um, I’m Dean,” Dean started.   
“My name is Castiel,” said the man, and cleared his throat a little awkwardly. “I suppose you heard that exchange?”  
Dean laughed and nodded. “Yeah.”  
“That’s- that’s my brother Gabriel. He’s a little…” Castiel grimaced and waved his arms around a bit to emphasize his point, and Dean noticed that one of them was in a cast.   
“Yeah, I have a brother, too,” said Dean. “He- uh- doesn’t do stuff like that, though.”  
Castiel smiled a little.  
“So, what happened to your arm?” asked Dean.  
“I fell down the stairs,” Castiel said. “Well, quite a few stairs, actually. It was a baseball stadium.”  
Dean winced in sympathy and Castiel nodded.  
“The doctors say I have broken wrist, a fractured foot, and a concussion, but really I feel quite well.”  
Dean noticed that Castiel kind of talked like someone from the 1900’s, but he didn’t really mind.   
There was another silence, and to pass the time Dean took a package of vanilla pudding from the tray and opened it up. He spooned some into his mouth, and then choked. Hospital food.   
“This is awful,” he muttered, putting it back down on the tray and pushing it away a bit.  
“The chocolate pudding is the only good kind,” said Castiel, tossing him an unopened package with his good arm.  
“Thanks,” said Dean, grinning, and he took a bite. “Damn, you’re right, that’s good pudding.” He took another few spoonfuls, and then the nurse was back with water and he had to go through the whole flirting-with-the-hot-nurse routine, which usually didn’t exactly work out because whenever he was in the hospital he looked like crap.   
Once she had left, Dean lay back down on his pillow and closed his eyes. “So, Cas, how long have you been in here?”  
There was a pause, as though thrown a little by the nickname, but then Castiel said, ”Three days so far. They’re saying I can get out tomorrow, but that never really happens.”  
“Yeah, that sucks, but I get it, ’specially with two broken bones,” said Dean, eyes still closed, surprised at how tired he was already. His headache was fading a little, and after a few minutes he was asleep.

***

When Dean opened his eyes again, he heard a familiar tone. “… good he’s woken up, though,” Sam was saying.  
“Yes, he seemed fine,” Castiel replied.  
Dean sat up a little in his bed. “Hey, Sammy, you doing all right?”  
Sam turned towards him, and Dean noticed a bandage wrapping around his head. “Yeah,” Sam grinned. “I’m fine. They just let me out to see you. You, however, look awful.”  
“Thanks, man,” said Dean sarcastically, too tired to come up with some kind of comeback.  
“Hey, I’m gonna go get something from one of the vending machines in the lobby. The food here sucks.”   
Dean nodded, and Sam got up from the chair beside his bed and crossed to the door. As the door swung shut behind him, Dean realized he hadn’t peed since he had gotten to the hospital, and he really needed to.   
He unhooked himself from all the cords on the machine beeping next to him, and then swung his legs out of bed and stood slowly. Immediately, a wave of dizziness passed over him, but he closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them and started making his way across the room.   
The door to the bathroom was next to Castiel’s bed, and 15 feet of hopping on cold tiles had never felt longer in his life. He realized he must look ridiculous, but really he couldn’t care less and he really, really, had to go to the bathroom. He was nearly there when another wave of faintness crashed over him, and his knee buckled. He was about to hit the floor when a strong hand grabbed his arm and hauled him upwards.  
He grabbed onto the railing of Castiel’s bed, feeling a little like he was going to throw up.   
“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, and Dean could hear worry in his voice.   
“Yeah, yeah, fine, sorry, guess I haven’t been out of bed in two days,” Dean gasped out, opening his eyes. His head was spinning. “Sorry,” he said again, infinitely aware of the warmth of Castiel’s hand on his arm.  
“It’s alright,” Castiel said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”   
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” Dean said, still trying to get his breath back. He wanted Castiel’s hand to stay there, to keep him standing, but after a few moments he pulled away reluctantly and held on to the railing for support instead, and then pulled open the bathroom door. 

***

Dean was watching T.V. when the nurse came in that night.   
“Is there anything else you need before you go to sleep?” she asked, and Dean and Castiel both shook their heads.   
“Do you want me to close this?” she asked both of them, one hand on the curtain.  
“No, that’s quite all right,” said Castiel. “I mean, if it’s okay with you, Dean.”  
“Yeah, definetly, that’s fine,” said Dean, trying to sound casual and nonchalant. When the nurse left, he turned off the smiled quietly to himself in the room. Secretly, he was glad that Castiel had asked the nurse to leave the curtain open. With it closed, it made the room feel so much emptier. 

***

It was another two days before Castiel had to leave, and as there wasn’t much to do in the hospital except talk and eat and watch T.V. and sleep, Dean got to know a lot about him, and he got know a lot about Dean. Castiel was a tax accountant, which Dean said couldn’t be a very fun job, and Castiel laughed and said it wasn’t. Dean told him that he was a hunter, although he didn’t exactly elaborate on what he hunted.  
They had a very interesting talk about both of their brothers; Gabriel seemed just as much of an annoying brother as Sam was, although they steered clear of the whole male prostitute conversation. Sam came to visit a few times, but visiting hours weren’t that long and he hardly ever stayed for the whole time.   
Sometimes, Castiel got calls from Gabriel, but they never lasted for more than a few minutes. Dean found that he really liked talking to Cas, and was almost as comfortable with him as he was with Sam, which was ridiculous, as he had only known the man for a few days.   
Castiel left on the morning of Dean’s fourth day in the hospital; Gabriel came to pick him up. His brother was exactly how Castiel had described him, but he didn’t really look like Cas. His hair was swooped over and wavy rather than messy and straight, and it was darker than Castiel’s, and he definetly didn’t have those- totally not gorgeous, just blue- blue eyes.   
As Castiel wheeled out of the room, he turned back to Dean. “Goodbye, then, Dean,” he said.   
“Yeah, I’ll… uh, see you around, Cas,” said Dean, even though he knew the moment he got out of the hospital they would be heading off to the next case. The door closed behind him, and Dean heard wheels rolling down the hall, and then the room was silent. 

***

His next roommate, he liked much less than Cas. She had a fractured kneecap, and spent most of her time talking and complaining loudly into the bedside phone, which did nothing to help Dean’s headaches. He didn’t even try to make conversation with her, and he missed Castiel’s deep, comforting voice, and his laugh.   
It was another day and a half before Dean was allowed to leave, a day and a half spent with the separating curtain pulled all the way across (unfortunately, this did nothing to block out the woman’s talks on the phone), watching T.V. and eating chocolate pudding.   
Finally, a different nurse with red hair came in to check on him, and said that he was good to go, and he would have jumped out of the bed had his leg not been broken. As it was, he managed to sort of hobble over to the bathroom door, change into clothes Sam had brought for him- it was harder than he expected to put on a pair of shorts with a cast- and limp back out and into the wheelchair that they insisted he go to the car in.   
The door to the room shut behind him, cutting off the woman’s insistent blabbering into the phone, and he let out a sigh of relief. Sam wheeled him down the hall, talking the entire time about a new case he found in Indiana, but Dean wasn’t really listening because the painkillers from that morning were wearing off and his leg was really starting to ache again, especially when the wheelchair hit the curb outside.   
It was a gross, gray, humid spring day, which did nothing to heighten Dean’s mood. Sam wheeled him through the parking lot, weaving in and out of cars, and then suddenly Castiel’s name made him look up.  
“Sorry, what?”  
Sam laughed. “I said, Cas told me that he wanted to say hi once you got out of the hospital.”  
And then they were in front of the Impala and Castiel was standing there, half-leaning against the car, a little awkward on his crutches.  
“Hello, Dean,” he said.  
“Hey, Cas,” said Dean, and those really gorgeous blue eyes were crinkled up a little at the corners from smiling, and Dean just had to smile, too.


End file.
